The Future Is Now
by SundayInDecember
Summary: Triple H isn't happy with the way the company has been handled lately. Raw needs a makeover - new stories, new matches...and a new champion. Seth isn't what he used to be, and he isn't what Hunter needs for his plans anymore. So, for a new champ to rise, he has to fall. And, if neccessary, Hunter will make him fall him over with his own hands.


Backstage, shortly before the fight that would crown the new Universal Campion (what a stupidity, they should have had the __real__ title on RAW) his wife was hugging Seth Rollins, her chosen champion.

Hunter watched them from afar, on the screen in his private office, taking in the lines if both Stephanie and the man he had chosen as the Authority's golden boy ages ago.

It was weird, seeing them together on screen, he mused, especially considering how similar their impact had been on his plans.

Seth…he'd picked Seth because after The Shield had destroyed Evolution, he'd worried about what he and his team might have been able to do to him and his leadership if running wild uncontrolled.

Thinking about it now – with Randy gone, with J&J gone again, with Kane having fallen back to his demon personality – it seemed as if Seth had proven more disruptive to the Authority from the inside than he had been from the outside.

And Stephanie…he loved her, he really did. But sometimes…she had allowed this to become a pissing contest between her and her brother, that good-for-nothing, self-centered showoff, not a show for the show's sake. Also, while her choices on talents hadn't been too bad during the spilt (he would have done one or two things different; and Mick fucking Foley had a stronger influence than he liked) but she wasn't doing anything with them. Instead, she stuck with Seth, and thus - Ambrose on Smackdown, Seth on Raw, with Reigns as direct competition - with the old schema…and with the man who had lost the title in the first place and then failed to win the new one.

He didn't know if it had been the injury or the year of having to do nothing but to rely on the Authority to solve his problems, but Seth wasn't the same man anymore. He no longer was the guy who'd driven him to re-forming the Evolution, who beat Kane and Cena and Hunter himself. His technique had improved, he was stronger than before, and he had his stubborn will…but something had changed.

Maybe – he'd been thinking this ever since Seth's surgery, maybe even before – it was time for a new champion.

Hunter waited with this decision, though.

He watched the match first. He had a replacement in mind, but he was patient, watching, assessing, weighing his options.

It was when Seth was on the floor, slowly climbing to his feet, while Reigns stalked towards him, both of them ignoring Owens in favor of pursuing their old rivalry __again__ that Hunter made his move and rushed out to the ring.

* * *

Seth's skin was hot and damp under his fingers, his pulse racing, and he never flinched. He never even tensed. Hunter had his hands basically around his neck, and Seth just looked at him, dazed from the hits and the exhaustion, unafraid and trusting.

 _ _You should know better, Seth.__

With some effort, Hunter dragged him up, snapping at him to go ahead and get Reigns (and damn, beating down this particular thorn in his side had felt good) before he recovered, and Seth reacted, turning his back at him. It would have been so easy, but now was not the time.

Instead, he heaved Seth in the ring, and when he struggled to get forward, jumped into action again to shove his soon-to-be-ex protégée forward and in the right position.

And that, right there, that was the problem, wasn't it?

Seth needed support, and too much of it. Or well, he didn't actually need it, he could hold his own, but the second he got the net, he'd drop in it at every opportunity to secure a win instead of risking to take a risk. Sure, at first that had been great. He had been so needy for recognition and so frayed by his teammates constant arguing, and using that and this weird inferiority superiority complex he'd been able to play Seth like a fiddle. A champ completely at his bid and call.

But it was too much, Hunter mused as he pulled Reign's unconscious form out of the ring and moved on to gather Owens. Having Seth as his champ was a bit like driving a car on a curvy road: If you turned your attention elsewhere for just a moment, he'd rush straight into the next ditch.

And right now, he'd have other pressing matters to care about. Now, he needed a different kind of champ.

Owens was greedy, too, a similar kind of petulant, reckless, overconfident brat. But he had proven that he could do things on his own, that he'd march forward when the way got rocky instead of sending somebody else. That he wouldn't need Hunter to watch every single of his steps.

Jumping in the ring with the two remaining men, Hunter slowly stepped between them, hanging in opposite corners, and, for a moment, hesitated.

Owens was a risk. Less controllable, more likely to take initiative and stab him in the back; and he had a partner, a __friend__ of his own; a variable Hunter saw with wariness. And Seth __had__ picked up some important victories on his own, and he'd even managed not to piss off half the rooster lately…

But no. No.

Seth obviously was too likely to revert to his old ways, and he…frankly, might be damaged goods. He had an obvious weak point now, and he'd failed to secure a title despite being handed countless opportunities. Plus, of course, he was the chosen favorite of Foley and his wife.

He had to go down.

Turning his back on Owens, Hunter crossed the ring in a few wide steps. Looking down at the young man in the corner before him, he felt this hint of melancholia well up, the small it-was-nice-with-you he always felt before leaving somebody beaten up at the figurative roadside.

He also felt pity.

This childishly naïve streak he had was in full force as Seth looked up at him, relieved that he wasn't alone anymore, that he hadn't been left behind after his injury, that he was stull worthy of help. He trusted Hunter wholeheartedly.

Poor, stupid kid. After all those betrayals, he probably should know better…but Hunter understood. This was something you didn't learn by watching or doing. You needed to experience it, full force, to understand.

Ah, well. He'd stabbed people in the back whom he'd been much closer to than Seth Rollins, more than once. It was a pity, in a way, sure, but he wouldn't loose any sleep over it, in the end.

Carefully schooling his face into a blank mask, Hunter leaned down and gave Seth a hard pat to the cheek to get him moving.

 _ _I am about to teach you one last lesson, Seth. A particularly hard one. Learn something from it.__

"Let's do this."

He left Seth to get on his feet, dragging Owens up before he looked back. Seth was stumbling, holding his rips, but there was a grin on his face as he limped over like an obedient dog that'd been called to heel. So gullible it almost hurt to watch it.

He never saw it coming.

The kick got him right in the stomach, leaving him doubling over. Hunter was on him before he could even begin to recover, pulling Seth's arms up behind his back and locking his hands, effectively trapping the younger man.

Once completed, Hunter held the position for some breaths, looking down at Kevin Owens, the man he was just handing the title. He could feel Seth trying to struggle, straining against his grip, but barely paid it any mind.

He had perfected the Pedigree. He knew exactly how and where to hold his victims to immobilize even strong and fit men, and Seth was weakened and tired. There would be no escaping, unless he allowed it.

Owens stared at him, possibly even more shocked than Seth had to be feeling right now. It was clear he couldn't believe it…but there was something else. A glint of hope, a shimmer of thankfulness, and beyond, this need for it to be true, this need to know he'd be on top. No anger or offense that he'd be handed this victory instead of winning it on his own.

Absolutely everything Hunter had been hoping for.

Pulling his attention away from his new champion for just a moment, Hunter tightened his grip and finished it.

After, he pushed Seth's limp body over, laying him out on his back; stepping away to give Owens room for a pin. Owens just stares at him, then he rushes forward, rushing past him as quickly as possible. The haste wasn't needed, Seth wasn't moving at all, but Hunter welcomed it. Taking advantage immediately when it is offered, that's good.

Owens stared at him during the pin, not even looking at the referee, as if he was afraid Hunter might beat him down next…but there was a part of him that understood, a part that realized he'd been chosen as the new face of RAW. That could barely believe it, and yet, nearly burst with pride and glee.

Hunter stared back grimly. He had made his decision, now it would show if had been the right one.

He would stand by it, anyway, and so it was him, not the referee, who jumped down and ripped the title from Foley's resisting hands. He and Stephanie both stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, but Hunter barely acknowledged them, only pinning his wife with a gland once, shortly – __I'm cleaning up your mess here__ – before going back to his new champ.

He had to step around Seth to do so, and the younger man's hand came up when he passed…to fall back down, touching his own face, probably less to check for blood than clutching a sore spot out of reflex. A part of him was glad Seth hadn't tried to reach for him. Begging, even in this half-conscious state, would have made him thing considerably less of him. Also…Hunter wasn't a monster. Seth'd been humiliated enough for today.

Then, he shut that line of thought down and focused on Kevin Owens, taking in the glee, the victory on the man's face as he clutched the title, staring at it, and finally raising it above his head.

He was certain that he had made the right decision. This was the right way, stepping away from all that had been when Raw and Smackdown had been one, starting anew, going a unique way with their unique rooster….and, of course, controlling that rooster with their new, fresh, unique champion.

They wanted a new era, a new Raw? Well, he'd give it to them.

And he was just getting started.


End file.
